


Familiarity

by Morethancupcake



Series: 00q ficlets [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), London Spy
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established 00Q, Established Danny/Alex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Memories, Pascal the cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: Slowly, like moss and wildflowers, they make their way into each other's lives.





	Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

> Once again inspired by this : http://a-forger-and-a-point-man.tumblr.com/post/164032928243/hey-00qad-fandom
> 
> My plan is to write a chapter for each questions, and see where it goes.
> 
> As usual, please remember English isn't my first language. No editing whatsoever, I'm just trying to cheer myself up on a gloomy Sunday night.
> 
> Crossposted on Tumblr.
> 
> http://iwanttopizzamanyou.tumblr.com/post/164414676694/familiarity

The first time it happens, Q is just awake from his nap, and he's so disoriented it takes him a handful of seconds to understand just where he is.

His own bed, his flat.

He reaches for his glasses, and tries to focus on the previous days, the cluster of issues and incidents, M yelling, the Prime Minister taking time to call.

He sighs when he remembers it's done and over with. Another day serving the Crown, saving the Kingdom and the World, really.

He's a ball of hurt. His shoulders hurt, his back hurts, he hisses when his feet touch the carpet.

It's not the first time an agent is detached solely to take him to safety, to make sure he's in his bed, and not asleep in the Tube. He visits his bathroom and brushes his teeth, noticing the comfortable clothes he's wearing, not remembering putting it on.

He's wondering about tea, and a few crumpets maybe, when he opens the kitchen door and 9 smiles at him.

 

It's enough to stop him right where he is, and to make him blush like a school boy. 009 is looking like his usual self, calm and composed, except for the tiny threads poking from his trousers' leg, probably Pascal's doing.

Pascal, currently purring next to the agent apparently doing the dishes.

“I'm sorry, Q. You obviously needed to sleep, and M told me you would be fine with me here.”

“M. Right.” He remembers 9, here in Q branch. He remembers talking to him, he is, after all, his favourite, but it almost doesn't make sense, to see him here in his kitchen, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“I wasn't sure if you would be awake for breakfast or lunch. Sit down, I'll make you tea.”

There's a question in here, and Q smiles at it. He relaxes, and sits at the tiny table, his fingers going to Pascal's head. It's nice, in a way Q didn't know he could need. 9 doesn't talk, he doesn't poke him with questions. He uses the old kettle without complaining and he grabs two crumpets from the fridge, popping them into the toaster.

It's domestic, Q supposes. He doesn't remember coexisting in peace, with someone. He likes it. He likes the sound of the water hitting the teapot, and she slight scratch on the knife spreading butter. The sounds on the porcelain plate in front of him, and Alex feet, muffles with his wool socks.

It's soft and peaceful, so soft that the shrieking call of the washing machine makes him jump out of his skin, almost drenching himself and Pascal in the process with boiling tea.

“Oh yes.” 9 comes back in the kitchen, hands full of dirty mugs he carefully puts in the sink. “Do you usually use a basket ?”

“A basket.” It's not even a question. Nothing makes sense.

“Q.” 9 kneels so he can catch his eyes, and he looks... sad ? “It's better to fold your clothes right away, now that they're dry.”

“There's a basket, in the bathroom. On the shelf.”

Pascal purrs, and kneads at his stomach.

9 comes back. He kneels again, but this time takes everything out. Socks and underwear. T-shirts, blue jeans. It takes him a whole minute to realise the rest of his clothes is actually already in the tiny laundry room, the smell of the laundry detergent making everything fresh.

9 has beautiful hands, longs fingers. He folds the socks together, makes a pile of underwear the puts gently in the basket.

When he kneels again at his feet and reaches for Q's face, he looks upset, and Q doesn't fight when he takes his glasses away, and wipes at his cheeks, taking with him the tears he wasn't aware of.

Pascal reaches to lick at his chin, and purrs even harder, when the first sob shakes him. They're old friends, it's not the first time Q breaks in front of him. It's been a while, to be fair.

“What's wrong, Q ?”

“I just... I'm not used to it. People. Taking care of me.” 

Mrro ? Pascal jumps from his lap, which makes it easier for 9 to hug him, his arms caging him, making him feel safe. 

“Alex.” 9 smiles, and helps him with his glasses. “You should call me Alex.”

 

“That's the sweetest.” Danny pushes himself on his elbow, to better see Alex sitting on the floor with the usual baskets they use for their laundry. “That's the first time you called him Alex ?” 

Still lounging on the sofa, Q nods and reaches for his mug of tea. It's a nice Sunday night, boring and a little bittersweet, and Danny wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

“The story of how he managed to turn you into a very high maintenance cat, you mean.” James teases, and Danny doesn't even roll his eyes anymore. If anything, he's the one lavishing Q with expensive gifts, breakfasts in bed and trips around the world. Q finds it deeply amusing too, it seems, and they both share a smile before he finishes the last drops of tea, and regretfully leaves his cocoon on plaids.

“We need to get going.” Q kisses Danny's cheek, and accepts the hug Alex gives him. James isn't there yet. He nods at them both, and puts a very possessive hand on Q's shoulder. It makes them smile, when they're alone, how territorial he can be, the knee jerk reaction very much ingrained in him.

“I love our Sunday nights.” Alex kisses him, stretching on the sofa. He's getting better at it, Danny can't help but noticing. At relaxing, smiling. 

“Yeah, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! If you liked it, please consider leaving me kudos and a nice comment ? They make me really happy.


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